Fah, Akmulii
by Mclawliet
Summary: Small story pieces of the happily married couple - Dragonborn and Vilkas. Having a follower is fun, but having mishaps (and glitches) with him while exploring the world in is even funnier.
1. Part I

_**Vilkas belongs to Skyrim and Bethesda...and to TES Your pick.. Well, he's not mine. I own only how this particular story is told.**_

_For a change, I've decided to write something about my character (she's a dark elf, but you can imagine whoever you want) and Vilkas. Yes, as you've probably guessed, he's my husband. He's just so…likable, you know! Every time I hear him saying: "It's good to see you, my dear." Or when he says the words and gives me the home cooked meal…gosh, my heart melts._

_So yeah, these are the situations I have with him, but do add a dash of imagination. Pity you can't have more dialogue with him (or with spouse in general). I know, this is not Sims or DA, but still…there could be more lines for them. So far I've written 3 stories, and perhaps I'll write more of them. Otherwise, this story will have the "complete" status._

_First story is because I gather herbs constantly, stopping every few steps. Every Alchemist will know this situation. Second one is (and I'm sure it happened to you), when you want to take shortcut, but your follower isn't cooperating, running around like a headless chicken, until he finally comes to you. After five minutes. Third one is if you travel alone constantly. Although I like to take Vilkas with me all the time. Just for the fun. Lydia stays home to be a guard dog._

_I hope you find this enjoyable. See any mistakes in text? Do tell. It was not beta-ed.  
_

* * *

**1. Lollgygagging  
**

* * *

"Why do you always have to pick all the flowers that grow on our quests?" Vilkas groaned and continued to watch her with crossed arms as she jumped around from one plant to another, picking all the flowers she could gather from those little bushes. To an outsider, it almost looked as if she was enjoying at doing such simple task immensely, knowing she was making him fidgety on his feet. He craved to move onward towards the battle, not standing around like a fool and feeling, well, useless. Not to mention stuffiness under the thick layers of metal, as fabric stuck to his skin. He could feel a single sweat drop running down his back, licking his skin on its way from the neck towards his rump. It was driving him crazy.

He was, after all, a Nord. He was used to ice, spending his entire life in Whiterun. Of course, he traveled a lot when he was a bit younger, but the warmth of Riften was always hard for him to endure.

"Oh, come on, dear husband." She said to him, smile carved on her face. "You know I need them for potions. And winter is coming soon, everything will freeze over. I'm not exactly willing to pay a lot of money for something that I can gather on my own before coldness comes." It was true. The leaves were changing their colors, turning from the usually green to pleasant shades of yellow, orange, red and brown. These colors did wonders to otherwise white and gray land, decorating the ground and giving life to harsh land. Almost all of the trees were bare now, leaves scattered around and waiting for the snow to cover them.

"Unless if you prefer do drop dead once we run out of them?"

"I know, I know, it's just…I'm not use to all of this." He admitted, shifting from foot to foot. "When I used to go on missions with our Companions, we usually went directly to the point, did the deed, and returned back home. There was no time for…lollygagging."

"Lollygagging, eh?" She laughed, stepping closer to him with a bouquet of various rock plants in her hand, which she placed into her bag. "I think you don't even know the meaning of that word."

"Mhm? And you suddenly know how to do lollygagging correctly?" He leaned and whispered the words into her ear, his chuckle sending off vibrations from his chest. She could almost feel them through the hard armor. Placing her hands on her hips, she moved closer, challenging look in her eyes. She could never back off when being challenged, even if it came from her dear spouse. That was something he liked so much about her. Her stubbornness.

"I do it all the time. I know it like the back of my own pockets."

"Really, now?" A cheeky grin made its way onto his face. "Then do show me how to do that properly, my love."

"You asked for it!" She suddenly ducked, grabbing the biggest pile of leaves she could and threw it onto his face. She burst into laughter as she saw him spitting some of them out from his mouth, and shouted: "Tag, you're it!" before hopping off to form another pile to throw.

"You better run!" He called after her, joining to her in the laughter and frolicking as they scattered leaves around their new playground. She jumped on his back, smothering his face with - yes, more leaves; and wrapping her hands around his neck. Felling mischievous, he spun around with her, making her giggle, before shaking her off, much to her dismay and her sound of displeasure. Luckily for her, she fell on soft surface of thick grass. He moved to lie down beside her, both of them feeling dizzy and breathless, but otherwise happy.

"Did I ever tell you how handsome you look with that smile of yours?" Vilkas grinned at her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and laying his hand on her cheek, rubbing her soft skin with his finger. He gently kissed her lips in thanks for the compliment, and moved to help her stand up.

"You know, we should do this more often."

"Indeed." He agreed and embraced her, kissing her deeply. The giggling of the children, who were hiding behind the nearby barrels, pulled them apart, realization dawning upon them. They were watched all this time! He could feel himself blushing in embarrassment, but had no time to utter a single word – she grasped his hand and pulled him away, skipping off deeper into the forest.

They continued to smile well into the night.

* * *

**2. Come on, Just Jump!  
**

* * *

"I'm not going to do it."

"You're seriously going to make a several hundred meters turn, just not to jump off this simple edge? For the love of Mara! It's not even that high, meter or two at best!" She retorted, impatient with his obsession of not jumping off or over obstacles, such as rock, piles of snow, or to run down steep slopes.

"You don't know what it does to me. It hurts every time I land, every time we sprint, and continues to sting when we go home to rest. When I walk around town, I limp as an old man would, just waiting for Farkas to jump out from the corner and make jokes about my state." Vilkas growled. "You're not wearing heavy armor, so you don't even know how much it _hurts._" He was a tough warrior, who did not like to voice his complaints, to whine about soreness of his body or to talk about his weaknesses. But this was one of his.

He knew he wasn't young anymore. Well, he wasn't old either, but the constant fighting took its tool on his body. Especially on his joints, which were sore after each fight. He felt ashamed the first time when he had to ask his beloved to make some remedy for the pain, fearing he soon would be of no use at all.

Fighting was his life, whether he was willing to admit it or not. He didn't know any better, as he was never required to learn any craft. Smithing, jewelcrafting, enchanting or alchemy - that was beyond his knowledge. For his entire live he was taught only how to handle weapons, shields and how to strike an enemy and kill it as swiftly as possible. He was crafted to become a human weapon, not to create weapons for humans.

His desire do postpone the unavoidable fate was stronger.

"I'm going to take a turn. Wait for me, it shouldn't take me more than a minute."

"Alright, alright. Take your time, I'm certainly not going anywhere."

His knees were spared that day.

* * *

**3. Wanderlust  
**

* * *

"I've noticed that we never sleep together lately." She said to him at the dinner, flicking the bits around her plate, not particularly interested in food. "We rarely spend time together as well."

"What do you mean?" He sounded rather surprised. "You're always off, submitting yourself to the wanderlust, exploring caves, dungeons, forts and who knows what – and when you finally come home to your worried husband, you arrive at such strange hours. No wonder you find him asleep, or not at home." There was no accusation in his tone, which made her feel more uncomfortable than she expected. It would be better if he was angry at her, but no, he remained calm.

"I know I'm to blame too, but…" She shifted on the bench, felling nervous and perhaps a bit foolish. But she felt if she stayed silent, things would become like that. And stay like that. She didn't want to normalize her arrivals in the middle of the night, waking him up when taking off her apparel and weapons; she didn't want for him to go asleep without her by his side, to feel unappreciated, to left him wonder what she does at the inns and places she stays.

She didn't want from him to think of her as unfaithful, despite knowing she wasn't a good wife. He could doubt her if he wished, and she would not hold any grudge. She could never be angry at him because of her own mistakes and wrongdoings. A good man deserves a good woman by his side, and she had enough time to think about the solution throughout her quests.

"I've been thinking. Maybe I should stop going from home so often."

"You don't have to stay because of me." He said to her. "I could never ask of you something like that. Even I had it, the lust for traveling, but I've seen many wonders in this world in such short time. I've seen enough, and have no wish to see more. But you dear, you only just began. I know that you'll always return to me, for I know you're strong enough to hold your ground. I know even if you do…jobs that conflict with the law, you'll always do the right thing. I don't mind if you have drinking contests, find other followers to go out with you, meet new people."

She could feel her eyes watering. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, which she wanted to hide from his steady gaze. She hung her head, trying to make them invisible, but his hand gently lifted her chin, making her to look into his eyes.

"And when you'll see enough of this world, enough people and cultures, you'll eventually return home, to me, and maybe stay. You'll always be welcomed in my arms, my love. If you want to stay more at home, don't do it because of me, do it because _you_ want."

She knew she wanted to stay. Her fears were slowly consuming her, leaving her to roll around in her sweaty sheets whenever she stayed away from the Whiterun. What if he became seriously ill, and she would be nowhere close his sight? What if he died, only to find out upon arrival he's been resting in Sovngarde for days, weeks, maybe months? She missed his hugs, kisses, intimacy between them – she was starving for it. She was craving for it.

"How come I have such a perfect man, while he has such imperfect wife?"

"Oh, dear, I also have mistakes, only you don't see them, because you don't mind them. I don't mind your mistakes, while you see them. I accept you as you are, and I don't want you to change in any way. Nobody is perfect, and I don't want from you to be like something what you're not."

She hugged him, sending plates and cups off to shatter upon landing onto the floor. She buried her head into his neck, smearing her tears onto his skin as she sobbed. He moved around the table, with her still clutching to him, before sitting down beside her. He rocked her back and forth, whispering gently soothing words into her ear, trying to reassure her.

He wasn't going anywhere. He would always stay and love her.

And he wouldn't want it any other way.

* * *

_*"Fah, Akmulii" – In Dragon language, it means: for (Fah), my husband (Akmulii). For my husband. If you can trust what you read on TES wiki.__  
_


	2. Part II

___**Vilkas belongs to Skyrim and Bethesda...and to TES Your pick.. Well, he's not mine. I own only how this particular story is told.  
**_  
_New chap! My goodness, it does pay off to have Vilkas as my constant companion. And he's a great husband (and luckily, since he's, let's say to some point, and important character to story plot, he also can't die. I think.). Continuation of Vilkas' and Dragonborn's (who is Dunmer) relationship and adventures. All stories happened in Whiterun, in the Breezehome (if it's not stated otherwise)._

_Since this one's a long(er) shot, this chapter will only have one story. It is not beta-ed.  
_

* * *

**4. New Gifts, New Armor**

* * *

It is no secret to mercenaries shedding old habits is a difficult task, especially if it includes the habits which keep you alive and well fed. Changing diets for climates, tasting and eating things that were completely out of someone's comfort zone – or receiving materials and making new deals with races some never thought they would ever have to deal with. Adapting to new armor, getting fresh bruises and abrasions due to not being accustomed to new fitting, or wielding different weapon which some might not usually have touched them – it was damn hard, but not impossible.

Thus it was much harder for her to get her husband warmed up to the idea of upgrading his existing armour.

"What is wrong with my Wolf armor? Nothing!" He argued, agitated by such ridiculous offer. "I know, my love, that you're an excellent smith – and may rival with Eorlund – but I don't want to, nor will I, shed my perfectly good armor."

"I don't understand! Are you perhaps asking for death, or have you become bored of living?" She retorted. "The times are becoming more and more dangerous as the sun and moon switch! The dragons are emerging, more so these days - as you know, we encounter at least two or three – i_n one single day_! Just few months ago only one came every several days! Now? They're everywhere you look!"

Vilkas tried to interrupt her, but she waved her hand at him angrily, signaling him to let her finish. "And you DON'T want new armor? You don't want to protect yourself, just because you're too attacked to the existing one? Darling, I'm not asking you to throw it away, I'm asking you to wear different set when we go questing together." She sighed, leaning back on the chair. The door to their bedroom was closed as she desired no interruptions, and Lydia left the estate, going to the Inn before the Dovahkiin decided to broach this troublesome subject with her beloved. Again.

"We've discussed about this few days ago. And before that two weeks. I don't understand why you don't want to hear 'no' for an answer!" He hissed through his clenched teeth, trying to remain nice – no husband should unleash his anger on his own wife, despite her being the origin of it. He tapped his fingers on the wooden surface, waiting for her response.

"And I don't understand why you don't want to hear about this! I really don't. Is it because I'm not of your kin? Is it because I'm not a Nord? Is it more bothering you that a 'lowly Dunmer' like myself dares to reason with you? –"

"How DARE you say something like that! -"

"Or is it because I'm not Him? -" She rasped, and he knew whom she was referring to. Kodlak Whitemane. She was referring to a man who was a parent figure to him throughout his entire life.

"Don't bring a dead man into this. It does you no honor."

"Oh does it now? I know how dear he was to you, how you glorified him – respected his advice. Would you listen to him, if he were to say what I'm trying to tell you for the past days?"

The tension between was tighter than a string on lute.

"He was a wise man and experienced about wars, armors, strategies. About skill which we honed under his observing and critical eyes. Of course all Companions listened to him and did what he suggested. The wisdom he had comes only with age."

"And you're saying I'm young?"

Vilkas slowly realized his mistake. Since he is a human, he interprets time differently than she does. He never thought of her being older than him – quite the contrary – he has always seen her as younger than himself. A fresh flower in wars, a novice in the territory of battles. There were no lines on her face that would indicate her true age. The wrinkles that came through smiling and laughter, worries or sadness over the decades have yet to be shown.

The truth was, she looked much younger then most elves of her age. She lived before Oblivion Crisis, before the explosion of Red Mountain, before a prisoner who was born on a certain day had become the true Nerevarine. She has witnessed all of the events, heard about assassinations of many kings, had seen with her own eyes how Argonians claimed the rest of her homeland – the Vvardenfell, after the eruption. She fought against daedra creatures in and managed to survive to now witness the political unstability of the Skyrim.

She had seen and lived through historical events about which he learned through reading of many historical parchments.

"I'm…huh." Vilkas sighed, shaking his head.

She took a deep breath. The flame of the candle, which was seated on the table between them, twisted under the breath she exhaled, trying to blow away the exhaustion that was boiling inside her.

"I do realize it is a low blow to mention a man, who was like a father to you, in such conversation. I do. You may call me insensitive, with a cruel, too sharp tongue – I won't blame you. But think of it in this light – would he want to see you to depart from this world so quickly?" She leaned closer to him, resting her elbow on the table to place her hand on his shoulder. "Would he want to see one of his own sons to die?"

He was silent, a sad twinkle in his eyes as memories of him, his brother and Kodlak ran through him mind. She shook him gently, drawing his attention back to herself, saying 'hey' to him, and he smiled in return, albeit very softly.

"I know what you're capable of. I know you're strong, courageous and always willing to help people, may it be defending, attacking or retrieving lost goods. I know you can easily defeat warriors and beasts that dare to cross your way. I know. You've proven yourself many times. It is why I trust you so completely – and I'm not calling you a weakling, or hinting on it in any way, because I'm proposing you to try something different." She gave him a hard, but loving look. "I do hope you're aware of that."

"Thank you for thinking so highly of me." He smiled. "I do realize what you're trying to say…" he hesitated, falling silent again.

"The times will turn into even more dangerous waters, Vilkas. You know that. Especially when you're married to a woman everyone relies on, since she's allegedly the one that will save this world. The legendary Dragonborn." Reaching for his hand, she grasped and squeezed it. "I don't want to go through this alone. I don't want to see more of my, your - our friends dying. Nor do I wish to see you perish. He wouldn't want this as well. So please, just…try to reconsider this. New gear, new weapons – only for the tasks outside the Whiterun. You can still wear your Wolf armor back home, if you wish. Just…take some time to think about my suggestion."

With these words she pushed herself off the chair and gave him a chaste kiss on his dry lips, going after Lydia to join her for ale or two, and left Vilkas to his thoughts.

* * *

Vilkas woke due to noises inside the bedroom. It was well past midnight, but not yet morning. He could hear, fleetingly so as his mind was still fogged from sleeping, the familiar sounds of metal plates clinging against each other. It would have seemed his wife finally decided to return from the monotonous amusements of The Bannered Mare and Mikael's constant warbling. After endless repetitions of the only few songs that man is capable of singing, and after several glasses of beer, even he turned out to become dull – duller than frostbite spiders.

Soon a body pressed behind him, comfortable warmth spreading over his back. An arm embraced him and rested its hand on top of his chest – which he grasped and moved it closer to his lips to place a kiss on the fingers, sighing in contentment. He rolled over to pull her into a hug, which she gladly returned, resting her head on top of his biceps.

"M'sorry." She mumbled through heavy lips. He was able to sense the smell of ale coming off of her, especially when she exhaled so profoundly. The smell of tobacco, sweet with vanilla fragrance, lingered in her hair – Hulda must have had a good stock in her storage.

"S'alright." He said, realizing she already drifted to sleep in his arms. Closing his eyes, he did the same.

The next morning had a fresh, cool tinge in the air, and was shaded by the dark clouds – the storm came rushing over the mountains, to unleash its burned down on the Whiterun.

She could feel the coldness through the thick blanket. Arousing from her slumber, she noticed he was still resting and breathing deeply. Good.

Pulling the blanket off herself, she moved away from his embrace to start her day. The banging inside her head was a leftover from last night, which now hurt her poor brain.

She wasted no time, though. She dressed, heavily so because of bad weather, drunk down water from the pitcher before leaving the house.

* * *

"Adrianne, I need your help. A lot of it. And I'm willing to pay you for the service." She whispered to the woman who has been already working at the forge since the first ray of sun managed to sneak through dense clouds. Rain, or no rain, Adrianne worked diligently, from morning until night – a fact that didn't go unnoticed.

"Tell me, what do you need?"

"I want to forge Vilkas a nice set of armor. I need to do it discreet, without him, or anyone else, noticing what I'm doing behind his back. Also I want to do weapons made out of Ebony." She said into her ear, eyeing the nearby guards and passing people if they've heard her. "It is meant to be a gift for his birthday, which will be in few weeks. You know how hard is to be secretive, when you have a husband on your back all the time." They shared a good laugh at that, before she continued.

"Do you think _you_ could craft them in such short time? I know it's a late notice, but I would be willing to pay you double for all the trouble."

"No need, my friend. I'm willing to cut half off the usual price, IF you invite Ulfberth and me to the party. Goodness knows we - as half of this village, need a different type of entertainment than our Inn is able to give."

"Wait. You do know the birthday will be happening at the same time as the autumn festival?"

"Of course I do. That is the point of my proposal – I would do it for half the price anyway."

She felt so relieved. "Thank you so much!"

"No need, truly. I'm always willing to do my friends a favor if it's needed."

Adrianne kept her word – with the help of her husband she worked hard on the armor to get it done in time. Dragonborn managed to convince Vilkas to give her the Wolf armor, explaining that it has become dirty and needs much deserving cleaning and repair. The truth was Adrianne required measurement for the new armor, as none of the warriors wanted to have an ill-fitting plate.

"Aye, armor has to be in excellent condition, if it wants to serve the owner properly." He said with enthusiasm and handed over the plate, shoulder pads, boots and gauntlets.

Luck was on their side, and soon, as days passed, the new armor was completed, along with additional crafting and enchanting. Now it was up to his spouse to hide it somewhere in the house, where he wouldn't think about looking. She found a spot – in the alchemy room there was a secret compartment under the wooden floor, about which only she knew. Vilkas surely won't look there.

And so, as everything was prepared, only time had to pass for his birthday to come.

* * *

To say the least, everything that had any connection to Companions – as in guild or members; was a loud affair. All residents of Whiterun knew when something was happening and the tradition was all people of the town were invited to celebrate bigger festivities inside or on the yard of Jorrvaskr.

Vilkas' and Farkas' upcoming birthday was, in fact, a big event. Perhaps it was also because of the time in the year when farmers picked up the last harvests, as the land would soon be covered with snow for several months and the earth would freeze solid. The month of Frostfall was ending, and Sun's Dusk will make its appearance in coming days. That was time of celebration, before everything stilled once more.

The main hall was heavily decorated with autumn colors. The heavy red drapes, which had many hunting motives, were pulled over the windows, while similar cloths rested on top of the tables. Everything was prepared – the freshly cooked food was brought into the room, as Tilma and other volunteers cooked without stopping; the wooden tableware, yellow napkins, beverage - even chairs had a small share of décor. From the ceiling hang various leaves the children have gathered and weaved in beautiful array, along with many acorns and horse chestnuts. At the corners stood bigger pumpkins, while smaller ones were places around the room; with candles inside them to illuminate the diverse expressions carved on their flesh for a protection against undead. Musicians played, people laughed and enjoyed the ceremony - some were already on their feet, dancing the night away, while some preferred to eat and talk to their neighbours. Even Jars decided to join the festival, bringing his own tribute to the party – two barrels of the best ale in all the Skyrim, along with three best cows and two goats from his stable.

It was perfect.

Dragonborn, after filling up her belly to the brim with delicious food, stood up, catching attention of every Companion even thought around them was a complete ruckus. Lifting out a package from the nearby drapery, she handed it to Farkas, wishing him all the good for his birthsday, letting him to tear apart the wrapping. Inside laid a beautifully designed Ebony sword which glowed red in the dark. He grasped it with his right hand and the sword began to glow at the contact.

"You did this for me?" He asked, still in awe as other whistled at the held beauty.

"But of course – for my favorite brother-in-law. He deserves only the best." She patted him on the shoulders and laughed, drinking down her share of ale.

"I'm the only brother-in-law." People snickered to the commentary. Farkas was prepared to shove the wrapping under the table after sheathing his new sword, but she stopped him just in time.

"Oh, look! I think I saw a glimpse of something else inside." She shifted on her feet, anxious to see his surprise.

Taking the wrap back into his hands, he pushed the paper around only to discover two more things wrapped inside. When he finished with unwrapping, he discovered an amulet to fortify his health and a ring to make his killing faster.

"Whoa, I would love to be in your place now." Aela said, eyeing the jewellery as any other woman would. She allowed herself to take the necklace out of his hands and laid it across her chest. "Do you think it would look pretty on me?" She batted her eyelashes at him and Vilkas grinned from ear to ear as he watched his brother blush.

"Oh, Aela, when you'll celebrate your birthday, then I'll make you something."

"Can't wait 'till then!"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Vilkas whispered into her ear, pulling her closer onto his lap. "What about my gift?"

"Oh darling, I can't give you mine right now, you'll have to…wait." She winked, laugher spreading over the table who bothered themselves to listen their conversation, as most of people were already dancing and singing, or drinking themselves to oblivion.

Torvar burst out laughing, remarking to Companions out loud: "Someone is going to get laid!" Earning a good round of laughter and snickering, he passed out on the table afterwards, his full jug falling onto the ground and spilling its essence across the stony floor.

"What do you say, my love, let's dance our night away until we can't walk anymore?"

"With pleasure." The members joined others, trading dancing partners, drinking and collapsing out from either exhaustion or drunkenness, resuming the merriment until the night turned into a day.

* * *

Vilkas was growing more impatient with every step he took with wife under his arm towards the house. What kind of gift would she have for him? Surely she wasn't implying on...well, that would have been a bit silly.

Was she?

He certainly wasn't in a state for anything of that nature, nor was she - his own legs were barely holding him up while his vision was blurry. Closing the door behind them as they entered into the kitchen, he sat down by the fire, feeling the heat of flames washing over his tired body, making him ready to fall asleep right there. Eventually she shook him, rousing him from nap.

"Huh, what what?" He muttered.

"I think it's time you get your gift as well." She said into his ear and grasped his hand, pulling him off the chair and guided him to the Alchemy room. "Wait here. I have to get it out first." Grinning, she knelled on the floor of the room and began tugging out the poorly fixed wooden beams, slowly revealing what secret was underneath the floor all this time. There was a hole, few feet wide and deep – enough for a large metal chest, along with other small things, to rest inside the hiding place.

"When did you have the time to dig a hole for a chest?" He asked, eyeing the pit with surprise.

"I never had. This was here already when I bought the home. I suppose it serves as some sort of a safe, where you can store anything valuable – if someone has the guts to steal from you." She ushered him closer to kneel down beside her.

"I stored your gift inside it. I hope you won't be too angry with me for doing this. But…it's something I really want you to have. If not, well, we can still put it somewhere else." She leaned against him and hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Happy birthday, my love. And to many good years."

He kissed her deeply, stealing her breath away, making her moan out of the stimulation which was heightened due to sweet intoxication. Pulling away from her, he kissed her lips, her jaw, traveling across her skin reaching her earlobes. "You're enough of a gift to me."

"You always say such darnest things." She giggled, and disentangled herself from him. "Come, open the chest. I hope you'll like it."

Impatience filled his clumsy fingers as he reached out to the lid, lifting it with a swift swing.

He was speechless.

"You…." He stared at her with wide eyes, disbelieving his own vision. She felt relieved, knowing he at least likes his present.

"Yes, me." She encouraged him to take everything out of the container. She looked from the chest back at him, signaling him to move.

Vilkas first grasped the helmet, observing it. It was an amazing craft, a helmet he has never seen before in his life. "By the gods! What is it made of?" He asked, rolling it around in his hold.

"Well, I thought since we've been killing dragon all this time, and I'm certain we will continue to do that for many years, why not use the materials they leave behind after death. I used some scales, bones and some leather to bid it together. And, well, this is the result. Don't worry though, yours is Heavy type of armor while mine is Light. Never forget about details, as some say." She babbled, a silly habit when she was nervous.

Letting go of the helmet, he retrieved also Dragon plate, gauntlets and shoes. But that wasn't all. She pushed into his hands another gift, rendering him speechless yet again.

"Just don't say I'm spoiling you. I'm not. I want you to be able to use your skills on best level."

Inside the gift laid an Ebony bow, which also shone red in the dark. "I allowed myself to enchant it with a fire spell. Hope you don't mind." She moved around, pulling another package from behind the closet. "You may guess from the size what this is. I know you love your greatsword to death, so consider this one as a sword to decorate your weapon rack."

He placed it against the wall and moved closer to her, sobered from the shock of what his wife has prepared for him. Kissing her again, he uttered. "I am truly the luckiest man to have you."

"No." She smiled "I'm the luckiest woman."

* * *

Few days have gone and come. Running a bit short on money and growing restless inside the house, they decided to go out for an adventure before winter will truly strike down on the land. Making sure they had everything they would need for the travel, she moved outside, waiting for him patiently to prepare himself.

When he finally turned up, she saw something was different.

He was wearing the new Dragon armor. And it looked really flattering on him.

"How do I look?" He asked, spinning a full circle, though she knew he didn't have to. She could see in his posture he felt more confident, in his eyes the enjoyment of wearing it.

"My, you could sweep me of my feet anytime." She joked, her hands checking on her mace.

"I hope it's comfortable, Adrianne did have to use few magic tricks from her sleeve."

"It's snug as a bug in a rug. Thank you."

At first, he felt very neutral about this new armor. With more quests, adventure and travels he came to the conclusion it was better than the Wolf armor, thought we would never really admit it under his grumbling breath. The Wolf armor has been with him his entire life – from the first time he received a rank and a sword into his hand - from being a little boy to become a full grown man - till the day his wife crafted him a new one.

It was still good, he assured, just as much as the new one. But perhaps it was time for a change.

Despite he now wore the Dragon set, the Wolf one completely earned an honorable place on the mannequin in his eyes, where it now rested after so many milestones in his life. Just as his wife has predicted, the Ebony Greatsword stood on the rack beside the armor, silently glowing in the dark.

Every time Vilkas' eyes gaze upon the Wolf set, he feels his chest swell with pride.

* * *

_I've calculated how old Barenzia is (she's at least 500 years old, and by how she looks from Morrowind, she must be a middle aged woman), and compared her to my Dunmer character. If we calculate that Morrowind adventure was happening at 3E427, with Oblivion Crisis six years later, then add 200 years + to get to Skyrim adventure – and let's say the Dragonborn was 27 years old at the time of new Nerevarine – it is possible for her to be now 233 years old. Ah, she's so young!_


End file.
